Drama in the Loo
by lezonne
Summary: Neville chases an upset Pansy and talks to her about her problems. Written for the Twelve Days of Christmas part 3 #3, the Pairing Diversity Boot Camp prompt #33, the 25 Days of Christmas Competition prompt red, and the If You Dare Challenge prompt #136.


Written for the _Twelve Days of Christmas _part 3 #3, the _Pairing Diversity Boot Camp_ prompt #33 (nuzzle), the _25 Days of Christmas Competition _prompt red, and the _If You Dare Challenge _prompt #136 (gossip).

* * *

Drama in the Loo

Pansy Parkinson is the kind of girl who likes to gossip, _a lot_. But that doesn't mean that people don't gossip about her too. And sometimes words can hurt more than a person likes to admit. She learned that the hard way.

Neville wasn't as accustomed to rumors as Pansy was. While he heard things here and there, nothing was ever really about him. More often than not people just chose to ignore him all together, which was fine by him. He had a great group of friends who stood by him through thick and thin.

But he was also a sweetheart, and he hated to see people cry. So when Parkinson ran by him one day and into the bathroom, knocking him flat on his bottom, he was just a hair concerned. Maybe he shouldn't be, but he couldn't help it. It was in his nature to pity people and help them when they were down, even if Parkinson was a rather cruel character, she wasn't as bad as people like Malfoy and Nott. She was one of the more human Slytherin's.

Maybe that's what convinced him to follow her into the bathroom. He was kind of apprehensive to do so, on the off chance that someone was in there, but shielded the space so no one else would enter. To say he was uncomfortable in that place would be an understatement. Neville didn't think boys belonged in the girls bathroom by any means, but if he intended to help Parkinson out he had the best chance of doing so in here where no one would see.

Well, he hoped so anyway.

Pansy was bent over a sink crying her eyes out. One hand remained by her face, hiding her eyes, while the other arm worked to keep supporting her. Her entire body shook.

Neville cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure how to start. Parkinson whipped around in a flash, eyes red and puffy.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "Did you miss the sign saying that this is the_ girl's_ bathroom?"

"Um, no. You bumped me when you ran by and I thought I would come see if you wanted to talk to someone. You seemed pretty upset. I thought-"

"You thought what, that I wanted comfort? If I won't accept comfort from my own friends why would I accept it from someone I don't even speak to?!"

He shrugged. "Because I might not judge you as much. You never know Parkinson. Slytherin's can be a bunch of hard-arses."

She laughed hollowly at that, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "Yeah, we're pretty cutthroat."

"Exactly, but Gryffindor's usually aren't as bad. We're more… warm-hearted, less sinister."

"I suppose that's true." She slid to the floor, wiping her eyes. Neville took up a place near one of the sinks, across from her. "I don't know why you would care about my dramas. They aren't anything important."

He shrugged. "Because you look pretty heartbroken, and I don't like when people look that way. So I thought I might just follow along and maybe… see what was wrong?"

"If you're so bloody interested in the perils of my life then I'll be happy to tell them to someone who's unlikely to turn around and blab my business to everyone in school."

"I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, promise." It felt awkward to comfort Parkinson, but the longer Neville stood in the bathroom with her the more comfortable he got. She wasn't as stuck up and snooty as people portrayed her to be.

"It's just silly gossip. Someone's going around saying that I'm a whore, which is nothing new. It's just who they say I've slept with."

He knew he was going to regret his next question before it was even off his lips. "And… who are they saying it was."

Yeah, super awkward.

She snorted, a very unladylike habit. Neville was a bit surprised Pansy knew how to snort, pug-faced or not. "Snape."

He screwed up his face, awful images flashing through his brain. "People actually believe that rubbish?"

"Draco started it," she spat, "And Theo backed him up. Most of Slytherin house believes anything those two have to say. Of course people believe it. I'm not entirely sure what I did to make them s mad, but they started this bit of gossip and now my entire house is picking on me, making these terribly sick jokes. It's disgusting. I would never sleep with Snape."

"I don't think anyone's that eager to nuzzle up to the potions professor," Neville assured, giving her the best smile he could manage. "Don't worry, not everyone's going to believe such an outrageous rumor. As soon as someone speaks up about how preposterous it is people will start thinking about it more and see why that person said so. You shouldn't be so worried Parkinson. It's a pathetic attempt at a believable rumor. No one's honestly going to believe it when they let the facts sink in. They'll realize it's a hoax."

"You think so?"

"I'm pretty sure." He sent her another smile, one that was much more assuring this time. "Trust me, it'll blow over by dinner at the latest."

Pansy wiped her eyes, standing up slowly. She walked over to Neville, pausing right in front of him. "I hope you're right."

"I am. It could've been a much worse rumor, like sleeping with Malfoy." They both shivered at that.

"Yeah, I guess people might buy that one more." She grabbed his hand, seeming somewhat uncertain about her actions as she gave it a squeeze. "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime," he said awkwardly, pulling away. He was about to turn and leave when she suddenly threw her hands around him, knocking him back against the sink. He grunted, hands finding a proper place on her back. Well, he kind of expected to be killed before he ever had the opportunity or the need to hug a Slytherin.

There's a first time for everything apparently.

Just as quickly as she threw her arms around him Pansy backed away, straightening herself out. She was prim and proper and composed once more. But something about her eyes threw him off. She almost looked like she wanted to hug him.

"I'll be on my way then." She turned without another word to head out, and Neville barely got the wards taken down before she got to the door. He hurried out after her, glad to find no one in the hallway. He really wouldn't want to be around when another girl tried to go in there.

Parkinson bolted away before he could say anything more to her, which was fine. He would probably end up saying something silly and embarrassing anyway. Leaning against the nearest wall, he sighed.

Why did he do this to himself? He could've avoided that entire situation if he just turned away and left Parkinson alone. He didn't need to focus so much on her.

But he was. And the feel of her hug stayed on his body. It really was an odd sensation.

Despite himself, Neville found that he wished their conversation lasted longer as he walked down the hall. But that was crazy. He didn't actually want to spend more time talking to her, did he?

Or worse- he didn't like her, did he? He only had a hug to go off of, but Parkinson wasn't bad to look at. It was probably his bloody hormones jumping around, that's all. Nothing more.

But then again, he'd never really considered Slytherin girls a possibility before. But after the war was over… maybe. He'd see where Parkinson's loyalties lay after that. And then maybe he could reconsider the tingly sensation he got when he hugged her.

**~FIN~**


End file.
